Feral

by Berkeley, Anne

  “Jack Medley’s party.” Leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, he drew in a short breath. His nose wrinkled. “Lemon, vodka, it’s not subtle, Thaleia. But don’t worry, Jack’s not in any trouble, so if you don’t mind, it’s important that you answer my question.”

  “Fine. I had a few drinks and then I left.”

  “Why?”

  “It was beat.”

  “What is your relation to Marcus Pera?”

  “Are you a cop or something?” I asked. Then belatedly, something occurred to me. Had the dog attacked Marcus first before it turned on me? “Is Marcus ok? Was he hurt too?” God, was it his dying breath, I heard? Was he gurgling on his own blood?

  “I’m not a cop, and Marcus is fine, but he did leave you in a rather precarious situation and since the incident occurred on my property, he’s made it my business. Now, I need you to tell me in as much detail as possible about what happened last night.”

  “Did he see what happened?” I asked, my tone sharpening at the end, my voice growing progressively louder. “He saw me being attacked by some rabid dog and he ran away—he just left me there? That fucker!” And here I’d thought he hit an all time low.

  Icarus arched one dark brow above one white-blue eye. “Are you capable of answering a question without making it a question?”

  Oblivious to Icarus’s observation, I sat up, releasing a torrent of expletives about what I was going to do to Marcus Pera the next time I saw him. I might’ve made threats to certain parts of his anatomy, which undoubtedly housed his brains. Only half out of the bed, I discovered much to my alarm that I was bare as the day I was born. Snagging the sheet that had fallen away from me, I covered my breasts, my eyes widening to two astounded orbs.

  “Where,” I snarled, “are my clothes?” Taking the sheet with me, I stumbled from the bed. The blood rushed from my head in the sudden shift in gravity, leaving me swaying woozily.

  “We had to remove them in order to treat your injuries,” Icarus answered, rising slowly, from the chair. “They were ruined anyway.”

  Backing toward the door, I pointed at him, as if there were someone else in the room. “You stay right there! If you come any closer, I’ll scream like the fucking devil, and trust me, I’ve got lungs like Freddy Goddamn Mercury!”

  Finding something I said amusing, Icarus smirked. “I’m one step up from Marcus, I see. My testicles haven’t yet warranted threats. That’s a good sign. On the other hand…” his brows furrowed. “…he must’ve done something really bad.”

  “You have no idea,” I said, reaching for the knob. Twisting it, I tugged the door open and backed into the hall. I could feel a draft ride up my exposed derrière as the hastily fastened linen fell loose. Goosebumps prickled my skin, standing my baby fine hairs on end.

  “Holy Mary Mother of God,” said a male voice behind me. I whirled on my toes. Not two feet to away stood three boys measurably younger than Icarus. They were brothers, judging by their physiognomies and builds. They looked alike, though each unique and different.

  “Stop staring at her you perverts!” Hailey barked behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I found another two boys, though they looked uncannily similar. I blinked twice. Was I seeing double? No. Twins. Coppery-haired, blue-eyed twins. They were huge. Larger than Icarus, and significantly larger than Hailey, who undeterred by their size, was giving them slack.

  “We’re keeping her, Icarus, right?” said one of the first three, pleadingly. He stood on his toes, peering between the shoulders of his cohabitants, straining to get a better view of my backside. “Oh God please say yes. I’ll never ask for anything ever again!”

  Stepping back into the bedroom, I took my chances with Icarus, closing the door behind me. “Turn around at least so I can fix myself,” I demanded. He did. I quickly adjusted the sheet, wrapping it around my torso and tucking one corner under to secure it in place. “Ok.”

  Turning, Icarus gave me a once over, his eyes sweeping slowly down and up again, then settling on my neck. I was bleeding. I could feel where my wounds opened again, weeping fresh blood through the gauze bandages concealing them.

  Behind me, there was a soft rap at the door, and Hailey peeked in, proffering fresh bandages, iodine, and a roll of tape. “Do you need my help?” she offered, stepping inside and closing the door. “I can stay. Maybe she—Thaleia—would feel more comfortable?”

  “I could use the help,” Icarus agreed without waiting for me to answer. Moving the chair closer to the bureau, he opened the sterile envelopes of gauze then lined them up along the surface, followed by the iodine. The tape he handed back to Hailey. “Tear about seven small strips about five inches long each.”

  As Hailey began tearing the strips, Icarus turned to me. “Sit,” he ordered, tickling the back of my skull. Short of rational thought, I padded softly to the chair and sat down. I angled my head carefully, and pulled my hair over my shoulder and out of the way. Icarus began peeling the tape slowly away from my skin, solicitous of the wounds beneath. His fingers were warm and gentle. He worked quietly except for the soft lull of his breathing.

  “What time is it?” I asked. “How long was I out for?”

  “A little past two AM.” From his pocket, Icarus pulled my iPhone. “I took the liberty of texting your parents. You’re spending the weekend with a friend. They’re expecting you home Sunday afternoon.”

  “Where did you get that?” I snapped, snatching my phone from his hand. From Marcus’s truck, obviously. That’s where I had left it. “If you already know Marcus, then why all the questions? What are you playing at?”

  “I know of Marcus,” Icarus clarified. “But I don’t know him.”

  Letting my back down, I relaxed again into the chair. “No big loss there.”

  “You don’t get along.”

  “Contrary, we got a long quite well until I found him screwing my best friend last night at Jack’s house.” Hearing Hailey’s squeak of umbrage, I flushed. She couldn’t be more than twelve. But I was used to living with Bennie. “Language, sorry, I forget myself.”

  “I have six brothers,” Hailey dismissed. “I’ve heard much worse.” Tearing the last strip of tape from the roll, she stuck it to the end of her finger, leaving only three free fingers to work with. “It’s just that you’re so pretty, why would he do something so stupid?”

  Flushing darker, I declined to answer. Peyton was offering it, I wasn’t.

  “You think so Icarus, don’t you?” Hailey pressed.

  “Oh, it was definitely stupid,” Icarus agreed, dodging the question.

  “That’s not—”

  “Hand me the iodine, Hailey, would you please?” said Icarus, holding out his hand. Hailey stared suspiciously then handed Icarus the iodine and a clean swab of gauze.

  “So that’s why you ran off into the woods last night. It all makes sense, Icarus, why he was chasing her. I mean, at first he probably just wanted to stop her, but she fell a few times. You did, didn’t you?” Hailey said, turning the attention back to me. “You fell. That’s why you’re your hands were all scraped up. And the smell of the blood; it was like a siren’s song. You most likely stimulated his instinct to hunt, and then like I said, the smell of your blood probably sent him over the edge and he shifted.”

  Hunt? Shift? I couldn’t help it. I snorted a laugh. “You’ve an imagination like my brother. He stays up all the time watching Grindhouse. Gingersnap is his favorite. Personally, American Werewolf in London is the best. It’s a cult classic.”

  Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m joking.”

  “Well, yeah, seriously, werewolves?” My eyes flickered between the two of them, taking in their grim expressions. “It was a dog,” I told them, firmly. “One with rabies if I had to guess. You should’ve taken me to the hospital. In fact, you should take me now. I can call my parents on the way.”

  “Hailey, wait outside,” Icarus ordered. Peeling the last of the dressing from my neck, he folded neatly in half and
in half again before dropping it into the small wastebasket. “Now.”

  Hailey gazed balefully at me for a brief moment before nodding and vacating the room. Honestly, her reaction disturbed me. I expected her to break out into an uproarious guffaw or considering her size and age, a mischievous giggle might be more realistic. But I hadn’t expected the hate I found in her eyes. Admittedly, it made my stomach curl.

  “You don’t really expect me to believe this.”

  “Look at your hands Thaleia.”

  I did. The dirt had been scrubbed from my hands, but evidence of the incident remained under my nails. They were impacted with dirt and blood. Yet, flipping my hands over to look again at my palms, I was bewildered to find them unscathed. Hours before they were covered in abrasions, my skin torn and jagged and bleeding. Moreover, my arms were unmarked, free of any bites and scrapes inflicted during my fight with the dog in the dark woods.

  Collecting my attention, Icarus retrieved from the dresser, a small silver hand mirror. This he kept facing his chest as moved in front of me. Watching me carefully, studying my frame of mind, he sat on the edge of the bed, his knees brushing mine. It was an impulsive reaction, but I reached for my neck. Icarus seized my hand in his, before I could touch my wounds. He didn’t let it go as he raised the mirror upright.

  I stared for a stretch of time, silent. Several emotions washed over me. Shock. Disbelief. Horror. Confusion. Returning to horror. It was overwhelming. Tears sprung from my eyes. I struggled to keep my breaths even, inhaling deeply and out again. I even closed my eyes, but when I reopened them, nothing had changed. Ribbons of pink tissue and silvery sinew ran the length of my neck and into my shoulder. Peeking from between several jagged flaps of loose flesh, I could see my clavicle. I even glimpsed my carotid artery, a deep, rich blue against the bright red blood escaping a much smaller capillary in the deepest cavity of my wound.

  I looked like Jack fucking Goodman.

  Having seen enough, I pushed the mirror away. My whole body began to shake. My face grew cold. Beads of sweat broke out across my forehead. “I’m think going to be sick,” I murmured, lips pinched and white. I dragged the back of my hand across my face, squirming in the chair as my stomach wavered biliously. Icarus dropped my hand to offer the wastebasket beside the bureau. I glanced at the basket and back at him, shaking my head. There was no way I was going to retch with someone watching. “Bathroom. Please.”

  Nodding in assent, he led the way to the bathroom, stepping aside and swinging the door open. I brushed past, pushing the door shut behind me. As I dropped to my knees, curled over the toilet, though careful not to touch it, I noticed Icarus had followed me in. Staring down, he stood over me like a Greek Adonis. Or the devil himself. My frown sank deeper.

  “I can’t puke with you watching me.”

  “I don’t think you have much choice in the matter.” Pushing the door closed, he opened the linen closet behind it and retrieved a washcloth, doused it under the faucet and wrung it out.

  “Can’t a girl have a little dignity,” I muttered. Had he undressed me—seen me naked? Did he know I had a birthmark on my left hip shaped like a quarter moon? Apparently, I couldn’t—have dignity that is. Crouching beside me, he pulled my hair back, knotting it in his hand at the back of my head. With his opposite hand, he ran the washcloth across my face.

  “Everybody pukes, Thaleia.”

  “Everybody dukes too, but I’d rather not bear witness to it.”

  Icarus chuckled. “Not quite the same parallel I’m afraid.”

  “We’ve a difference of opinion then.” For several long minutes we sat, waiting. I refused to retch in front of him, prudish as it was. Some lines were not meant to be crossed. In my book, anything involving bodily fluids, voluntary or not, was meant to be done in private.

  “You’re resisting it, aren’t you?” he asked with disapproval.

  “With all my heart and soul.”

  “You’ll feel much better afterwards.”

  I shrugged. I seriously doubted it. My recently disavowed boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend, and then chased me through the woods and nearly mauled me to death. My neck looked like a strip steak. My clothes were missing. I was in a house full of strangers—boys for the most part—who wanted to ‘keep me’ as if I were some stray animal. Oh, and the cherry on top, while I wasn’t dead, I suspected that I was now a werewolf thanks to said mauling.

  “Thaleia Llorente,” Icarus said in that voice that made my skull tickle. “You will stop resisting the urge to vomit this very moment.” My stomach rolled and I lurched forward, nearly falling into the toilet had Icarus not reached his arm across my chest to support me.

  “Bastard!” I cursed between heaves. “What the hell is that that you keep doing?” Disperse, rest, speak, sit, vomit. That tickle I was feeling wasn’t merely a tickle. In every instance, it was backed by a command that I was powerless to ignore.

  “Power of the Alpha, Thaleia.”

  I heaved again, repulsed and indignant. “So what—you’re asserting your dominance over me? Oh Holy Christ,” I gasped, glancing blearily into the toilet. I was vomiting blood. “That can’t be good at all.”

  “It’s nothing, Thaleia, your esophagus was punctured during the attack and you swallowed a lot of blood,” Icarus dismissed. Pressing the lever, he flushed the toilet divesting me of the horrid sight. “You’ve no need to worry. It’s healed already.”

  “God, my mom’s gonna freak,” I said. Delirium was creeping up on me. While the nausea had passed, I felt disconnected and the room whirled in dizzying circles around me, spinning and turning, rising and falling. My head grew heavy and fog hazed.

  “The rest of your wounds will have healed by morning. Your mother won’t know a thing about them. You’ll be as good as new. Better, truthfully.”

  “Wounds?” I murmured in amusement, sinking to the floor. It was cool against my back, but left me with vertigo, staring up at Icarus who stood towering over me, arms folded across his chest. “You’ve taken my free will! Oh Lord, she’ll have a cow when she finds out!”

  “I exercise my authority judiciously, Thaleia.”

  “Thaleia Llorente,” I mocked in the best Icarus imitation I could muster. “Sit. Speak. Vomit! Resistance is futile!” A delirious bubble of laughter escaped me. “Real judicious!”

  I could hear snickering coming from the hall.

  “Are you feeling better?” Icarus asked austerely.

  Closing my eyes, I put my index finger to my lips, whispering. “Shhhhh, they’re out there again.” I giggled. “They’re so curious. Why?”

  “You survived,” he answered, lifting me off the floor and standing me back on my feet. I swayed, watching him fill a small glass tumbler with water from the faucet. He placed the glass in my hand, making sure I had it before he let go. “Rinse, but don’t drink.”

  “I take it that doesn’t happen often,” I said, trying to place the glass back on the vanity. Irritatingly, it kept moving, the vanity that is. And then it split in two, both moving in opposing directions. I fished blindly with both hands then married the glass to the composite sink.

  “No, it doesn’t.” And for some reason, perhaps the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem totally pleased with the aspect.

  Grasping my upper arm, he opened the door and ushered me into the hall. Tottering to and fro, I clutched the bulk of the sheet so that I wouldn’t trip over it. For the most part, my eyes remained slivered, heavy with fatigue as I staggered across the hardwood floors and back to the bedroom. Most of my weight rested on Icarus’s side, using him to balance myself.

  “Balls!” I heard. “Would you look at that!”

  “Jesus effing Christ.”

  “Can we kill him now?” another petitioned fervently. I was able to peel open one eye. It was the boy who begged to keep me. He was cute. Dimpled. Brotherly. He had shaggy black hair that curled up on the ends. His face still has a bit of youthful roundness. Ingenuous blue eyes. Flushing, he
smiled sheepishly.

  “Kill who?” I asked, eyeing the wonder twins on either side of him. Wholly crap they were hot. Coppery hair. Green eyes. Matching biceps and washboard abs. They eyed me back with the same appreciation. The slightly taller of the two rolled his eyes, snorting at the boy, but the shorter one lifted my chin. While managing to scrutinize my gaping wounds, his fingertips trailed gently down the other side, bringing a fresh flush to my skin.

  “You couldn’t harm a fly, Runt.”

  “Shut it, Caius,” the boy pouted. “I don’t know why we let him go anyway. We had every right to end him right there. He was on our property. Freakin’ rogues.”

  “Are you talking about…Marcus?” I murmured, shaking off the invading darkness. Was that a growl behind me, from Icarus? Why—because I mentioned Marcus’s name? Or was it because of the way the twin touched me? Silly, I didn’t even know these boys. What would Icarus care? While he was hospitable, I got the impression I was a nuisance.

  Shaking my head didn’t dislodge the shadows plaguing my vision. Instead, it made my head swim woozily. Lord all mighty, I was going to faint. The world suddenly tilted off axis, spinning profusely. Yep, definitely, I was. I was going down for the count. I could feel myself slipping as my eyes rolled back. I tried to warn them, but my tongue grew thick in my mouth.

  “Calling dibs Icarus?” said the twin, not Caius, but the one who touched me. His lips curled in a wolfish grin. It was the last thing I saw, his resplendent smile in all its godly glory.

  “No!” Icarus snapped, catching me as I blacked out. His words echoed in my head from down a long corridor, marred and darkened by his bitter tone. “I just don’t want anyone getting attached. I still haven’t decided if we’re keeping her. I’ve told you already, she’s trouble.”

  ΑΒΩ

  For what could’ve been minutes, but felt like hours, I floated in that half-conscious haze of morning, hidden beneath the layers of linens and homely quilts. Any chance of last night’s recollections having been a horrid nightmare was quickly dispelled by the spicy masculine scent lingering in the cotton sheets shrouding me. That and the square of gauze taped down the side of my neck and shoulder. The adhesive pulled at my skin reminding me of its presence.